Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,66

hanging from the metal post she’d driven past countless times over the past year.

“That was the problem. The sign she insisted on erecting in the parking lot kept her happy for all of about two days—until she realized the only people who would see it were people who happened to come to the office.” Regina pulled her top desk drawer open and rummaged around inside before finally extracting a brown leather date book. “Then she came up with the park idea. She offered to update all of the equipment on her own dime if the town would rename the park in her daughter’s honor.”

“Lots of people would see that,” she mumbled.

Regina snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But even before the signs came in, she started talking about how the only people who would see the name were people who came to the park.”

She looked from Regina to the sign and back again. “What did she want? To have her daughter’s name in lights?”

“Until that wasn’t far-reaching enough, either, regardless of the mountains she moved, or destroyed, in the process.”

Aware of the stress building in Regina, Tori changed topics. “How is Penelope doing? Do you know?”

The tweet of Regina’s phone prevented her from answering. “Excuse me. I need to take this.” Regina flipped her phone open and held it to her ear. “Pageant Creations, how can I help you? Oh yes, Natalie. I’m fine; how are you?”

Tori continued around the room, her attention vacillating between the artwork in front of her and the conversation taking place behind her, the notion of Ashley’s devotion to her daughter more than Tori could comprehend. What happened to hugs and kisses or special trips to the ice cream shop? When did things like that stop being special enough? Did children really care whether their name was on a parking sign?

Regina stood and crossed to the drafting table beneath the window, her hand gliding across an artist’s folder. “The first six have been . . . misplaced. But I’m sure they’ll turn up. Soon. In the meantime, the ones I have are absolute showstoppers.”

It was hard not to notice the rise in Regina’s pitch. Tori had been there herself, many times. Sure, she hadn’t lost a friend in such a brutal way as Regina had lost Ashley, but she knew about trying to shoehorn heartache into a life that insisted on moving along at its usual pace.

“Does it really matter whether there’s five or ten, or six or twelve?” Regina argued. “Dynamite is dynamite, isn’t it?”

She turned just in time to see the woman’s face fall. “That’s it? Just like that? No chance to . . . Okay . . . Okay . . . I’ll be in touch.” For a moment the woman simply sat there, motionless, the tension from earlier replaced by a palpable disappointment evident by one single word. “Damn.”

“Are you okay?” It was all she could think to say under the circumstances. “Is there anything I can do?”

Regina lifted the folder from the draft table only to slam it back down once again. “Damn! I wanted this so badly.”

“The partnership fell through?”

“You could say that.” Regina pushed off her chair and strode across the room toward her desk. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude but I’ve got work to do. If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve got to figure a way to salvage this deal one way or the other.”

“I understand.” She closed the gap between them, her thoughts jumping to the reason for her visit. “Someone killed your friend and employee. I’m confident my friends are not responsible. But there were other people at that party, people I don’t really know. And while I hate to think any of them may be responsible for Ashley’s death, it is certainly possible.”

“Possible went out the window when I found her in her car with a rope around her neck, don’t you think?” Regina dropped into her chair once again.

Realizing the angry Regina was back, Tori cut to the chase. “Can I ask what Samantha Smith said to you the night of the birthday party?”

“Samantha Smith? Who’s that?”

She lifted her hands to her head. “About my height, short brown hair, a little spiky at the top. I think she was wearing a denim jacket of some sort?”

“Okay, okay. I remember.” Regina propped her elbows on her desk and leaned forward into her hands, her jaw tightening in the process.